


Get A Cat!

by Esperancelaw (esperance9801)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: ARIGATOU:3, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, In which Ciel no longer exists, Modern Era, Post-Canon, but Sebby's still around, its difficult to explain!, so just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esperance9801/pseuds/Esperancelaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Phantomhive Manor, a hundred years after the unaccounted-for disappearance of its last Head of House, now the most haunted place in Britain. Legends have it, and facts do well to prove, that it is protected by a violent spirit who would exterminate whoever ventured a step into its grounds, and guard its dark secrets into eternity.</p><p>So when you stumbled upon its gates one dark, stormy night, you didn't expect to find yourself in the presence of a certain dark-haired, red-eyed, well-mannered, soft-spoken demon. Nor the fact that he had a great love for cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Meet at the Journey's End.

The Phantomhive Manor. The most haunted building in the whole of Britain.

Because the haunted-ness was real. Throughout the century or longer since it'd become uninhabited, countless had set foot within its grounds, attempting to penetrate its mysteries, all to no avail.

What was in there? What did they see? No one would ever know.

Because all of them-- every single one of them, with no exception-- would be found, when the heavy mist cleared on the morning following their arrival, dead. No wounds, no blood, nothing, but unmistakably dead, lain neatly outside the Manor's closed iron gates, their eyes closed and their mouths slightly open, as if they were simply asleep.

So since the 1950s, the government had prohibited anyone's entry into its grounds. But that hadn't stopped legends about the place making their way out, and flourishing into the most well-known fairytale nowadays. Every child knows of the tale of The Boy Over the Hills, a dark, un-fairytale-like fairytale set in the very manor, of a certain 13-year-old Ciel Phantomhive who, after his parents' death, turned to the help of a demon and went on the path of evil, eventually having his soul eaten on Judgement Day, and to rest in neither hell nor heaven, because of all the sins he had committed.

You remember your mother reading you the tale when you were still a child. You remember your little family-- happy, though incomplete-- just your mother, and you, and your little cat who used to love scratching at the leather of the car's passenger seat.

And then you remember the night when everything fell apart; the moment when you woke up in the hospital, head still throbbing after the deafening crash, instinctively calling out for your mother, only to be told that you were the only one left alive. All that was left of your past life was a little silver bell charm, hung on a fine silver chain, which the nurse handed to you with a trembling hand. It was one your mother had always worn, and now it was yours to keep around your neck.

You were sent to a foster family after your recovery. The Waysons were gentle, caring, considerate, all that you'd ever hoped for and needed. But you weren't happy.

You felt as though you could never be happy again.

So one night, one pouring, thunderous night, you ran. You ran, not knowing where to go, and not caring, only feeling the little bell knocking against your the middle of your collarbone, its weak jingle overpowered by the rain. You ran till you were all drenched to the skin, and your legs could carry you no more. And by the time you stopped, there was nothing but a pair of heavy, wrought-iron gates in front of you.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the sprawling estate in the not-too-far distance. But before the sudden shock of recognition could sink in, you felt the dazzle of electricity as a bolt of lightning passed right through you. Numbed by the acute pain, you felt your vision turn blurry. Your last sensation was that of a sharp sting as your knees hit the ground, before you felt yourself sink into the darkness.

+++++++++

You woke up the following morning in a soft King-sized bed beside large full-length windows, the curtains of which were drawn, showing a still gloomy sky. The rain was still pouring, but had subsided enough for you to make out in the distance the iron gates you had collapsed against the previous night.

You were inside the Phantomhive Manor.

In a daze, you stood and slipped into fluffy white slippers that had been placed out for you neatly at the side of the bed, at the same time noticing the white, velvety, oversized shirt you had on that hanged down all the way to cover your thighs.

You pushed open your door. The corridors were a rich red and gold, hanged with beautiful oil paintings, all immaculately clean as if just dusted by a meticulous servant.

And then you noticed the moving figure further down the corridor, followed by a gently yet firm knocking on a door.

A creak of doors opening, and the figure disappeared into them.

You slipped along carefully, the soft velvet carpeting deadening your footsteps.

'Young Master. It's time to wake up.'

Rustle of curtains being drawn.

'Today's tea is a royal blend of Earl Grey from Fortnum and Mason's.'

The tinker of tea set and then trickling water. Rich citrus aroma wafted into your nose.

'And your schedule today is white as snow. Please do take this day off and relax a little. Breakfast will await you down in the dining hall.'

A pause, then the creak of doors turning on its hinges as the previously seen figure, now recognizable but only as a tall man dressed all in black, appeared and disappeared almost immediately down the other side of the corridor.

And so you make your way soundlessly down, stopping in front of the large oaken doors. They had been left ajar, but you knocked anyways, expecting and receiving no response.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

'Y-Young mas...ter? Sorry for the intrusion-'

But there was no Young Master. The cup of Earl Grey stood on the nightstand, undrunk, untouched, steam rising weakly from the dark red liquid; the pure white bedsheets smooth, undisturbed, cold, clean as paper before the poem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There goes my first ever Kuroshitsuji fan fiction~~ I read too much, now my hands are itching.  
> Not so much of Sebby in this chapter isn't there... So I'll post the second one together here. Enjoy!


	2. Over the Hills and Far Away.

Chapter 2

He had pale skin, raven black hair, and a pair of startling red eyes the colour of flowing blood.

He wore a smart, creaseless tailcoat, all black save for a silver pin glinting on his collar, and his hands that were covered by spotless white gloves.

You watched silently as those gloved hands poured tea, manoevred a pair of highly-polished tweezers to place a scone on a porcelain plate, added a scoop of whipped cream with a delicate silver spoon, and set it down before the empty seat at the head of the table. He bowed slightly at his invisible master with what seemed to be a serene smile on his youthful face.

Then he turned to you.

'I do apologize for my negligence. Do you feel well this morning, milady?'

'G-Good,' you struggled to find words. 'Thanks for... everything, sir.'

'Please just call me Sebastian,' he smiled his serene smile, 'I am but a mere butler.'

'And please do take a seat. We hope our humble breakfast is up to your standards.'

He pulled out a chair next the the unoccupied one of his master.

+++++++++

It was just like in the fairytale. Ciel Phantomhive's capture, the summoning, the binding and the eventual fulfillment of the contract.

'But he wasn't evil,' Sebastian had protested when you got to the part. 'He was just fulfilling his duties as the Queen's watchdog. My master had a kinder and purer soul than any other human you'd find.'

His voice was tinged with defiance and sadness.

It seemed like the fairytale had gotten one more thing wrong. It'd tell of how Ciel Phantomhive's soul had been taken by the demon at the end of it all. But it hadn't told of the reluctance with which it had been done, nor had it told of how, a hundred years after the end of the story, the very demon would remain, alone in the manor where they used to live, in silent but perpetual mourning.

'You must be really lonely, a hundred years all by yourself.'

Sebastian smiled his serene smile and did not reply.

'I mean, even if you're a demon...'

Another thought suddenly struck you.

'Sebastian? Why didn't you... Kill me?'

'I believe you didn't come knocking at our gates on purpose,' he stated simply, still smiling.

'And the smell of sadness is thick around you. So I thought you must be really lonely too.'

++++++++

'You should get a cat.'

It was evening. You were alongside Sebastian, helping with the dishes, when those words simply jumped out of your mouth out of nowhere.

'Pardon me?' He seemed confused by the sudden suggestion.

'I mean,' you explained quickly, embarrassed, 'Having a pet would... make a good companion. Especially a cat.'

He listened attentively.

'I mean... I'm more of a cat person... And I used to have a cat,' you drifted into memories. 'She was a beautiful little ginger. Cats are... great. They'd fawn over you all cute and sappy when they're asking for food, and leave like a boss the moment they're full. They'd make you run all over the house looking for them, and then crawl out of nowhere and climb into your lap acting all innocent just when you decide to give up. They make you... less lonely. I guess.' You finished off lamely, casting Sebastian a timid look.

But to your great surprise and happiness his lips curved into a smile.

'Thank you for your excellent suggestion, milady. Actually, I happen to share your great fondness of cats as well.'

A pause, then he changed the topic abruptly.

'You said you would be leaving tomorrow?'

'Huh? Oh, um, yeah... My... foster family would be worried. I sorta just... ran out...'

He smiled his customary smile. 'I understand. In that case you should take a bath and rest early,' he told you, taking over the detergent-covered wet plate from your hands.

'Alright,' you nodded, drying your hands.

'Then, er, good night, Sebastian!'

'Sleep well, my lady.'

++++++

It was midnight as Sebastian descended the flight steps down to the wine cellar, a gleaming wine glass held carefully in his gloved hand.

He picked a dusty bottle off the highest shelves and wiped it clean with a handkerchief with every meticulousness of a careful butler.

The ruby red liquid made no sound as it entered the glass. Sebastian poured till it was half full, then set it down slowly on the ground before him.

Sliding his gloves off, he held his marked right hand over the wine glass, closed his eyes, and felt his powers gather.

All this time, Sebastian had just wanted to be left alone. But when you stumbled into his otherwise peaceful life, he realised he could do with some companionship, after all.

He had let you live, but now he no longer wanted to let you go. And when you have him the suggestion earlier that night, he knew what to do.

He would turn you into a cat. A (e/c)-eyed, (h/c)-furred cat. A cat who would live forever, and remember nothing of her sadness outside of this manor. A cat who'd fawn over him all cute and sappy when she's asking for food, and leave like a boss the moment she's full. A cat who'd make him run all over the house looking for her, and then crawl out of nowhere and climb into him lap acting all innocent just when he decided to give up.

Tomorrow morning, he would offer this enchanted glass of wine to you, who would accept it without a second thought.

 _And then we will no longer be lonely,_ Sebastian thought, as the sigil on his hand glowed magenta, and the dark red liquid began to bubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:  
> I personally don't mind getting turned into a kitty and living with Sebby forever...(≧∇≦)
> 
> Buuuuut anyways. Part two of three done! This is gonna be a three-part story, in case I'd forgotten to tell ya :D Please look forward to the ending which I'll try to make as happy as possible ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to Mr Arthir Kirkland for personally baking and providing the scones, Mr Francis Bonnefoy for the Bordeaux, and Mr Levi Ackerman for the free supply of detergent. The production team would like the clarify that we are indeed aware of the fact that detergent didn't exist in Victorian era England, but we could not refuse Mr Ackerman's kindness, especially after he and his squad helped to clean the entire mansion under the pretext that 'it's dirty as shit'.
> 
> But the greatest thanks is to YOU, my dear reader, for sticking with us this far. Now, comments and reviews, pretty please?


	3. Hello, Goodbye.

When you woke up the next morning, you found on a bench beside your bed, all lain out neat, clean and dry, the clothes you'd come in. Alongside them was little your little silver bell charm, which gave off a soft but melodious jingle as you took it up and examined it closely.

You'd forgotten about it during the short yet long twenty-four hours you'd been in here. And now as you looked at it, all the reality crashed in on you.

 _It's time to leave this fairytale, (f/n),_ you told yourself firmly. Time to get a life. You can't live in the shadows of the past forever. _Even Sebastian-_

Even Sebastian?

You tried to think of how it must have been for him for the past full hundred years or even more; him staying here, waking up, preparing breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and announcing the eternally clean as snow schedule for his young master who was no longer here. He would stay here, like this, for another century, and another, maybe with a cat or maybe not, all the way into eternity. Always under that shadow.

Even Sebastian...

++++++++

Sebastian was awaiting your arrival in the dining hall. The table was set only for one, and it was the one at the head of the table.

'Good morning, my lady. I apologise for not being able to provide a carriage for you due to the absence of horses,' he said with a bow. 'In return, please accept a glass of our best wine, and drink to your safe journey back home.'

You smiled, but instead of sitting down you made your way towards him, and held our your palm on which the little silver bell rested.

'I want you to have this,' you told him.

He looked startled. 'But, my lady, I think I am right to assume that this is something precious to you...'

'It is,' you confirmed. 'All the more I want you to have it. This is my only remembrance of my family... I lost all of them. I know this pain is probably nothing compared to yours. But I have to go back and continue to live my life, don't I? I'm not saying you must, but you should get a move on, too... There's no point staying under the shadows of the past forever...'

'At least get a cat, ya?'

You beamed at the first ever look of genuine surprise you've seen on his handsome face, and took the chance to lean forth and hang the charm around his neck. Satisfied, you made your way back to the table, sat down, and picked up the glass of prized wine he'd specially poured out for you.

'Well, I sorta don't really drink... But I guess I couldn't refuse?' You smiled, bringing the glass to your lips.

...only to have your mouth blocked firmly by a strong, glove-clad hand. Sebastian had appeared behind you out of nowhere, smiling a closed-eye smile as he pried the glass out of your fingers.

'On second thoughts, your journey back home would probably be safer if you don't get yourself drunk, young lady.'

......

'Hey!! I've always wanted to try how good wine's supposed to taste like!'

'No. I'll make you our best tea as compensation-'

'Tea is different from wine! And where are you even going walking this fast- DID YOU JUST POUR THAT DOWN THE DRAIN?! Isn't that supposed to be expensive?! '

'You see, I'm sorta quite rich...'

+++++++++

But Sebastian'd revert back to his calm, imperturbable, even melancholic self again when it was time for you to take your leave. Despite your repeated promises to come by again whenever you could, and his reassuring smile that he'd sincerely look forward to it, you could still notice the unmistakably trace of sadness that appeared momentarily in those ruby-like eyes.

As you descended the steps down to the main yard, he suddenly called out from the top.

'Do you like black cats?'

You couldn't help but smile. So he _is_ going to get his cat after all.

'I don't like them, I love them!' You called back, laughter in your voice.

And scarcely had you gotten to the gates when a sleek black cat emerged from the nearby bushes, nudging himself against your leg, a small silver bell jingling happily under his neck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this... I guess. Thanks everyone for dropping by and sticking around :D Do leave comments/reviews for me;)


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